Maggie and the Great Squirrel Chase
December 3rd, 2007
Maggie and the Great Squirrel Chase
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he unusually warm fall temperatures have helped to expand the winter preparation time for the over abundant population of grey squirrels in our CWE neighborhood. Squirrels are everywhere. Nearby Forrest Park seems to be over run with them. Our neighborhood is alive with squirrels. They scurry and dart among the great oak, elm, maple and occasional ash trees that in part help to define our community. They scamper across streets with little heed for traffic, vehicular or human. Fall is the time of the year when squirrels rule the world.
For the urban squirrel there are few predators. There is the random hunter cat, the outside cat whose instincts and survival rely on stalking and sometimes catching squirrels. We have a community outside cat on our block. His name is Pershing. Pershing is a large, grossly, over weight Tabby whose primary activities are going from house to be fed and let in from the cold and intimidating passing dogs by sitting in the middle of the sidewalk refusing to move. These activities have little or no effect on the squirrel population on our block. Pershing is not a predatory threat.
Then there is Maggie, my three year old German Shepherd mix. Other than eating, sleeping and playing, Maggie’s sole purpose in life is to chase squirrels, and if by chance to catch squirrels. Maggie is obsessed with the four legged, long bushy tailed creatures she sees climbing trees, running in the street and on the rooftops. Squirrels drive Maggie wild. Maggie watches the squirrels from a huge picture window at the rear of our apartment. She studies their every move. Her hunter instincts are sharpened and fueled by hours of studied observation. She knows their habits and movements. She watches with such intensity, I would not be surprised if she could identify individual squirrels.
Like most animals, squirrels are creatures of habit: Every afternoon a group of squirrels travel from a nest built high in an elm tree at the front of our house, across the roof to a stand of maple and oak trees in our backyard. To reach the trees from the roof, the squirrels must jump a span of approximately six feet or so. The squirrels are punctual. Between 5:00 pm and 5:10 pm the squirrels arrive for their daily aerobatics high jinks. Maggie is punctual too. She sits in front of the picture window and watches the show. It really is exciting watching the squirrels flying through the air, their ample tails acting as both rudder and parachute as they land adroitly on a branch. I can imagine watching this feat gets the juices flowing in Miss Maggie. Her focus is sharpened, the canine adrenaline is in full mode. She is ready for some serious squirrel chasing.
But for Maggie the great squirrel chase is not to be. When Maggie goes out for her daily walks and she encounters her nemesis – the squirrels, she is seriously constrained by a short leash and a sharp rebuke of “NO” or “leave it.” She is slowly learning she can’t even bark at squirrels on her walks. Poor Maggie struggles between human discipline, personal desire, and canine instinct. To help relieve some of the frustration and energy, Maggie goes to the dog park where she chases tennis balls instead of squirrels.
I don’t know if Maggie transfers her squirrel chasing instincts, but she chases the balls with the same intensity and boundless energy she puts into squirrel watching.
Maybe one day Maggie will get her greatest wish, her long time dream will come true and she can chase squirrels to her heart’s content. But until then she will have to settle for tennis balls.
